Autolycus: The Series: "The Surly Bonds of Earth"
by OmarSnake
Summary: Autolycus and Muran must rescue the rider of the Pegasus...


LINER NOTE: This series follows the adventures of Autolycus, the King of Thieves, and Muran, a young Chinese bandit who he has reluctantly taken under his wing, as they travel the ancient world looking for treasures to steal and trouble to get into….  
  
TEASER  
  
FADE IN  
  
The streets of Labbios. It is a prosperous city, but even prosperous cities have vagrants in them. In this case, beggars hit up passers-by along a well- traveled stretch in the inner parts of the city. Most of the citizens ignore the beggars, or else throw as little as possible in their cups. The beggars have different tactics. Some demand, some cajole, some simply look pitiful. But one among them does none of those. He just sits there, staring blankly to the sky.  
  
His eyes are milky-white, and he has deeply wrinkled skin and long, sparse white hair. To call him old would be an underestimate; he looks positively ancient. A gnarled cane sits beside him.  
  
"Do you want a coin, old man?" Asks a passer-by.  
  
The old man ignores him, continuing to stare upwards.  
  
"I said, Do you want a coin?" The passer-by is clearly annoyed; he would rather the beggars he deigns to give change to grovel for it. "Or should I move on? Are you deaf?"  
  
The old man lifts a withered hand, calling for silence. "Can you hear them?" he whispers.  
  
The passer-by looks around. "Hear who?"  
  
The old man points up, and the passer-by looks upwards. A flock of birds moves overhead, in formation.  
  
"You can HEAR that?" the passer-by says incredulously.  
  
"If you know what to listen for," The old man says wistfully.  
  
Spooked by this odd moment, the passer-by drops a few coins in the old man's cup and passes by.  
  
As the flock of birds moves further away, the old man leans his head back against the wall behind him. He seems deeply, painfully sad.  
  
After a moment of isolation, new shadows pass across the old man. Though he cannot see, he immediately senses them and looks their direction. Three men in loose-fitting robes stand before him. One is imposingly tall, dark- skinned with a scraggly beard and kinky shoulder-length hair. His eyes have the unmistakable fire of a leader. Beside him stands a smaller man, lighter- skinned than he though still swarthy by the standards of the lands surrounding Greece. He is bald and clean-shaven except for his eyebrows, probably pushing 50, dignified and clearly intelligent. Behind the two of them is the third figure, who is even taller than the leader; He is downright massive, in fact; a muscular, 6'9" Arab with a carefully-trimmed beard, hair that flows a foot below his shoulders, and a patch over one eye. He says nothing, but stands with fists clenched, ready for violence (though it is hard to imagine anyone who would try to pick a fight with him).  
  
"This one?" the leader asks the bald one.  
  
"I think so, my lord," the bald one says, with a more pronounced Arabic accent than the leader had, and leans in to the old man. "You are Bellerophon." He doesn't ask it, he says it as a known fact.  
  
"Yes," the old man says wearily.  
  
The bald one looks back to the leader. "This is him. Look at his profile; even with the advanced years, you can see the noble countenance. He carries himself with greater dignity than the other vagrants. And greater sorrow."  
  
"Plus, he's blind and crippled, and in the city where we were told he would be found," The leader says dryly.  
  
"I am tired, my friends," Bellerophon says. "I do not have the energy to tell you of my adventures long ago, if that is why you have come."  
  
"Come now, Bellerophon," the leader says, leaning toward him. "Every child in the countryside could tell me your story. We want much more important information."  
  
"What would that be?" Bellerophon asks, though he doesn't seem to interested in the answer.  
  
"You will tell us how to snare the Pegasus," the leader says.  
  
Bellerophon turns as if to regard him, shocked speechless.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
On the same street, Autolycus walks along, Muran riding their horse Haley beside him.  
  
"That store over there," Autolycus says, pointing in one direction, "used to be a jeweler's. He'd swindle all his customers. Until I robbed him of every pebble in his inventory."  
  
"How noble of you," Muran says sarcastically. "I don't suppose you gave those jewels to the poor?"  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
Muran arches an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, some of them," Autolycus amends himself.  
  
Muran arches it a little further.  
  
"Okay, I gave one of the necklaces to a flower girl I was trying to impress," he admits. "You happy?"  
  
"You know, for a king of thieves, you really need to work on your skills at lying---" she cuts off as someone yells nearby. They turn and see an old man being lifted by a massive Arabian man.  
  
Bellerophon yells in protest, "Put me down! You can't do this!" as the massive man flings him over his shoulder like a bag of flour.  
  
People look, but don't seem to want to get involved.  
  
"We can do whatever we want," The leader says harshly. The three men turn around.  
  
"I don't think that belongs to you," Autolycus says, standing in their path.  
  
"This isn't your concern," the leader says, trying to keep his temper in check and barely succeeding.  
  
"Please help." The old man begs.  
  
"Hey, I'd like to let you guys steal him, but he said 'please.' " Autolycus kicks the massive man squarely in the chest... and nothing happens. The man barely moves to register that he was hit at all. A slight grunt and a glance down at Autolycus is all the acknowledgement he makes. He still stands there, the old man hanging over one shoulder.  
  
"Mahmoud, swat this bug," The leader says coldly.  
  
"Yes, my lord," the massive man says. His voice is deep, rumbling. Autolycus pulls back into a defensive pose, but the man just stands there. Confused by this, Autolycus lets his guard down for a split-second...  
  
In which time Mahmoud's ham-sized fist plows straight into Autolycus's chest. He is knocked hard against a wall, and falls with a gasp. Muran runs to him. "Are you okay?" she asks, panicky.  
  
"That... really... hurt..." he says, wheezing for air.  
  
She glowers up at Mahmoud, who stands there impassively, cracking his knuckles.  
  
"When your father gets up," the leader says to her, "Tell him no one stands in the way of Bouh-L'ar twice and lives."  
  
He walks past them and whistles, then calls out "Sharif!" A beautiful, majestic grey speckled horse trots up dutifully, and Bouh-L'ar climbs onto its saddle. Mahmoud plops the old man across the back of the horse behind the leader and steps back.  
  
"We will find out more information and meet you back at the camp, my lord," the bald man says respectfully.  
  
"You do that, Humi-Batiq," the leader responds. "And if that man tries to interfere again... have Mahmoud disassemble him."  
  
Muran remains at Autolycus's side, looking worried. He turns to Autolycus, who is still trying to catch his breath.  
  
FADE OUT. OPENING CREDITS.  
  
ACT ONE  
  
FADE IN  
  
TITLE CARD: THE SURLY BONDS OF EARTH  
  
SPECIAL GUEST STAR JULIUS CARRY AS LORD BOUH-L'AR  
  
Muran helps Autolycus as he staggers into an apothecaries' store. He leans against a shelf, coughing. "That... did not feel good...."  
  
"Don't speak," Muran says. She turns to the counter; it is a thin, elegant, Sylph-like woman in her early 50s. She has red hair, though much of it is turning white. "Can you help my friend?" Muran asks.  
  
The woman walks around the counter. "What happened to him?"  
  
"He got punched in the chest," Muran says.  
  
"Not... just... punched....", Autolycus protests. "PUNCHED."  
  
The woman examines him. "Looks like he got the wind knocked out of him, that's all." She feels under his shirt.  
  
"Please, ma'am... we just... met..." Autolycus coughs.  
  
The woman smirks a bit. "I don't feel anything broken. He should be alright with a little rest."  
  
"Can't rest. Got to... rescue that old man," Autolycus mutters.  
  
Muran looks at him, confused. "Not that I'm complaining about helping people, but why is this one so important to you?"  
  
"I'm not... sure." Autolycus stands unsteadily. "Something tells me this is big. Call it a hunch. Anyhow, that Bouh-L'ar guy looks like he needs to be knocked down a peg or two."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The sky is a scintillating shade of light blue. We are moving through the whispy clouds. From the bottom of the screen, a man comes into view. He is young and handsome, with a slight cleft in his chin and dark brown eyes. His hair is sandy brown and curly, and he is clad in a white toga.  
  
The wind blows through his hair and into his face so ferociously that he can barely keep his eyes open. Despite that, his expression is one of pure joy. He looks to one side and sees an enormous white wing beating through the air. He marvels at the sight, and turning his face back into the wind lets out a triumphant "Wahoo!!"  
  
NECKSNAPPINGLY FAST CUT TO:  
  
"Wake up, old-timer!"  
  
As he is kicked, old Bellerophon's milky eyes snap open. Though he cannot see the speaker, we can: An Arabian man we haven't seen before stands over him. "Lord Bouh-L'ar wants to see you," the man continues. "You can sleep when your job is done."  
  
Bellerophon stumbles to his feet, and is dragged from the tree he was resting against into a tent.  
  
In the tent, Bouh-L'ar paces back and forth. He looks up. "Ah! There you are! Come in, come in."  
  
Bellerophon, momentarily confused by this seeming politeness, stumbles into the tent. "You won't get me to help you," he says finally. "I will NOT take part in a capture of the Pegasus."  
  
"Ah." Bouh-L'ar contemplates for a moment. "Then, you die," He says matter- of-factly, as if deciding what to have for dinner.  
  
"I care not," Bellerophon replies. "I welcome death, as I have for sixty years now. It's about damned time it came and took me."  
  
Bouh-L'ar frowns. "Alright, threats don't work. How about bribery?"  
  
"I think not." Bellerophon sounds indignant.  
  
"Not money?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Power?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Women?"  
  
"Far too old to care about that anymore," he says.  
  
Bouh-L'ar contemplates. "Well, then. I guess we'll just execute you in the morning.... Oh, yes, there was one other thing I was going to offer you..."  
  
"Not interested."  
  
"Your sight."  
  
The old man pulls his head back in shock.  
  
"Thought that might get your attention," Bouh-L'ar chuckles.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus is squatting beside a frenzied-looking vagrant, trying to hold up his end of a conversation.  
  
"So, YOU'RE the one who invented fire, huh? How... interesting..." Autolycus comments as Muran walks up.  
  
Autolycus excuses himself and turns to her. "Any luck?"  
  
"Yeah," she says as they walk along. "The old man is named Bellerafone."  
  
"Bellerophon??" Autolycus gasps.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"Never met him, but everyone's heard of him."  
  
"I haven't."  
  
Autolycus seems surprised. "Ever hear of the Pegasus?"  
  
"A horse with a horn on its head, right?"  
  
"Not quite. Pegasus was a winged horse. Bellerophon was the only man who ever learned how to tame it. But something happened, and he disappeared decades before I was born."  
  
"Wow, that's a long time," Muran says with a sly grin.  
  
"ANYHOW," Autolycus continues, "if that old man was Bellerophon, he's sure fallen on hard times. There have been stories over the years of people trying to catch the Pegasus, but no one ever learned Bellerophon's secret. Or what happened to him."  
  
"You think that's what those men were after?"  
  
"Well, it's a safe bet they weren't just picking up their weekly vagrant. The question is how we find them---" he stops suddenly, grabs Muran by the collar of her coat, and pulls her into an alleyway.  
  
"Wha???" she cries out before he hushes her. They peek back out the alleyway to the street. There are Humi-Batiq and Mahmoud, emerging from a building.  
  
"I'd say we follow those two..." Muran suggests.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
A withered old Arabic woman stares into Bellerophon's eyes. She lifts some powder from a small bowl and flicks it into his eyes. He blinks and coughs. She speaks in an Arabic dialect, wiggling her fingers in the air around his eyes. Bouh-L'ar watches this, growing more impatient. "When will something happen?"  
  
"In a moment, my lord," the old woman says in a gravelly voice.  
  
"Good," Bouh-L'ar says, grabbing the old man's arm and pulling him roughly out of the tent.  
  
"Where are we going?" Bellerophon protests.  
  
"In a moment... you will see," Bouh-L'ar responds.  
  
He drags the old man up onto a cliffside and stares into his eyes.  
  
Bellerophon blinks, and the blackness he sees gradually turns to a difference in light, then blotchy shapes, which gradually turn to a blur. His eyes begin to focus, and for the first time in sixty years, Bellerophon sees clearly...  
  
Below them, in a grassy field, the Pegasus leisurely nibbles at some grass. It is a beautiful, milky-white horse with long, elegant feathered wings pulled close to its sides; its feathers, mane and tail are long and pure, sparkling white. It looks up and even from the great distance, Bellerophon can see its clear blue eyes staring at him as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT TWO  
  
FADE IN  
  
Humi-Batiq and Mahmoud walk down a road through a forestral area. "This is FASCINATING," Humi-Batiq says, reading over a scroll. "It seems that Bellerophon was quite an ambitious fellow..."  
  
Mahmoud seems thoroughly disinterested, so Humi-Batiq shrugs and drops the subject.  
  
Behind them, Autolycus and Muran move cautiously through the woods alongside the road.  
  
"How much further is it?" Muran whines in a whisper.  
  
"How should I know?" Autolycus replies. "Just keep qui---"  
  
A robed man drops from the tree above them! Autolycus steps back reflexively, then notices that three other men have dropped as well; he and Muran are boxed in by them. They pull small but dangerous-looking scimitars...  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The early morning has a strange haze to it. Bellerophon-- the young, handsome curly-haired version we saw earlier in flight--- is moving across the dewy field cautiously. In one hand, he grasps a gold-colored bridle that glistens as the rising sun shines on it. He darts behind a bush, looking around it. The Pegasus nibbles at the grass, looking up sharply and darting its head around before it resumes eating. The young man leaps out, and the Pegasus bucks up on its hind legs. As its wings start to beat fiercely at the air, its hooves lift off the ground. Before it can raise, the young man dives onto its back. It arcs up, and starts to swing horizontally to toss him off. He struggles to fit the bridle on it...  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Bellerophon as we know him now, old and withered, snaps out of his memory of a time long, long past. He walks out to the edge of the field and observes the Pegasus from a distance. Bouh-L'ar stands a few feet back, watching anxiously.  
  
"Well, do something," Bouh-L'ar hisses, then looks nervously to make sure his outburst didn't spook the horse.  
  
Bellerophon steps forward. "Do you remember me, boy?" he asks gently, as if the Pegasus could talk back to him. "It's been a long time. But you seem as healthy as ever. Still fond of clover, I see..."  
  
The Pegasus fixes its stare at him and whinies. As he takes one step further, the horse beats its wings and lifts into the air. Bellerophon continues to approach, and it lifts higher, until he has to stare up to see it.  
  
"Don't scare it off!" Bouh-L'ar whispers angrily.  
  
The Pegasus arcs high into the sky, and flies to a distant part of the valley before it lowers down to a lake and begins to drink.  
  
Bellerophon turns to regard him. "It won't come to me. Whatever hold I had over it is long gone."  
  
"There's something you aren't telling me, old man."  
  
He grabs the old man's arm and drags him back to the camp. Humi-Batiq and Mahmoud are approaching. "The cursed horse won't obey this old fool, Batiq," Bouh-L'ar growls. "Any other bright ideas?"  
  
"Yes, I think I've found something," Humi-Batiq says, starting to unroll a scroll.  
  
"Not so hard!" comes Autolycus's voice behind them. They turn, and see four Arabian guards "escorting" Autolycus and Muran out of a path in the woods.  
  
"Persistant rats," Bouh-L'ar comments. "After we kill the old one, maybe his daughter can be trained as a scout."  
  
"You could keep the old one and sell him as a eunuch," Batiq offers dryly.  
  
"Well, well, look who's here," Autolycus says as he is pushed toward Bouh- L'ar. "Care to join us? We were coming out here to go on a picnic."  
  
Bouh-L'ar rolls his eyes. "If that's an attempt at humor, quit," he says, "you don't have the knack. What are you two doing out here?"  
  
"We came to make sure the old man you monsters kidnapped was alright," Muran says defensively.  
  
"Not only is he well, but he can see now," Bouh-L'ar says with a smirk. "Hardly the act of monsters, don't you think?"  
  
"You are the ones who tried to save me?" Bellerophon asks. "I deeply appreciate it, but I'm afraid everyone's efforts are for naught." he turns to Bouh-L'ar. "I can't help you. The Pegasus won't come to me anymore. Take my eyesight back if you wish, you can get nothing more from me."  
  
"Really?" Batiq interjects. "Then I take if you no longer have the golden bridle?"  
  
Everyone turns to Batiq, who smiles inscrutably.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Around the campfire. Dusk is approaching. Autolycus and Muran are tied up, but allowed to sit near the others. A woman waits on them, placing bits of food in their mouths. She is veiled, but has lovely almond-shaped eyes and dusty skin.  
  
"So, come around here often?" Autolycus grins. The woman looks at him, confused.  
  
"Why you say that?" she asks in broken Greek; her skills with the language are clearly limited.  
  
"More of those leafy things, please," Muran asks. The woman pops another stuffed grape leaf into her mouth. "Ooh, that's good," Muran says, talking with her mouth full.  
  
"Well, I'd have recognized such a beautiful woman, if I'd seen you in town or anything," Autolycus continues, laying the charm on thick as he can.  
  
"You cannot see my face," the woman says. "How could you say I am---"  
  
"Beautiful? I see it in your eyes."  
  
"Can I have another one of those crunchy things next?" Muran interrupts.  
  
"Kuthayna!" Bouh-L'ar calls harshly from across the campfire, and the woman looks up. "Don't let them trick you. Pay attention to their hands."  
  
She looks down, noticing that Autolycus has almost gotten the rope untied. She makes a tsk tsk noise, bends down, and tightens the rope.  
  
Bouh-L'ar turns back to Humi-Batiq. "This bridle, where is it now?"  
  
"The documents I found do not say. Here is what is known:" (he starts to read from the scroll)  
  
"No man could tame the Pegasus, but Athena gave to the prince Bellerophon a bridle, made of purest gold, and told him that if he put it on the beast, he could ride and control it. He did, and went into battle, first against the Chimera and then--"  
  
"I get the idea," Bouh-L'ar interrupts. "But where is this bridle now?" He looks accusingly at the old man, who stares down at his still-full plate of food.  
  
"The scrolls do not tell why Bellerophon gave up his life of adventure, or how he came to be a blind, crippled beggar," Humi-Batiq continues.  
  
"Oh my gods!!!" Muran yells, jumping to her feet. The moon is rising in the sky, though darkness has not fully set yet. Against the backdrop of the moon, something moves across the sky. It comes closer, and the silhouette of a winged horse is clearly visible. "Is that it?"  
  
"No, probably some other flying horse," Autolycus mutters.  
  
It soon disappears over some trees, and she sits back down, dejected. "I want to SEE it," She mumbles.  
  
Kuthayna offers her another stuffed grape leaf and she bites into it, still pouting a bit.  
  
"It continues to dart around this valley," Bouh-L'ar growls. "But never close enough we can catch it."  
  
"Why bother?" Autolycus asks.  
  
The Arabian men stare up at him.  
  
"Seriously," he continues. "There are other winged monsters out there. I've heard of a girl who rides dragons in the northlands... Maybe she can train you to ride one of them."  
  
"The stories of the Pegasus have carried across many lands," Humi-Batiq explains. "It is considered one of the most noble of monsters, and there are many princes in our homeland who would pay a kingdom's ransom---"  
  
"You're just a bunch of horse thieves!" Autolycus cries out, laughing. "I thought you were some sinister, evil cult, but you're just damned rustlers!"  
  
"Quit laughing!" Bouh-L'ar demands.  
  
"I will..." Autolycus says between chuckles, "As soon as it stops being funny." He laughs again, exaggerating it a bit to agitate the man.  
  
Bouh-L'ar storms towards him, and towers over the seated Autolycus. "I told you to stop laughing. We are not 'horse thieves.' "  
  
Autolycus looks up at him. "Maybe you have a point. After all, horse thieves can actually CATCH the horses."  
  
"Dog!" Bouh-L'ar snarls, reaching for his scimitar.  
  
Autolycus kicks Bou-L'ar's legs out from under him, knocking Bouh-L'ar back onto the campfire. In the confusion, Autolycus pulls to his feet. "Come on, kid!" he yells, and he and Muran run toward the woods.  
  
Behind them, Bouh-L'ar's men grab their weapons and head after the duo as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT THREE  
  
FADE IN  
  
In the woods. Autolycus wiggles around and gets out of the ropes, then helps Muran. Behind them , there are crashing noises as the pursuing men move into the forest. Autolycus and Muran race through the woods, hardly pausing long enough to look behind them.  
  
"You HAD to taunt the man," Muran complains. "I could still be back there eating more of those good squishy things, but Nooooo...."  
  
"Quiet, kid," Autolycus says. "We need to find somewhere safe to hide... ah!" He pulls her toward some underbrush, which mostly conceals a cave.  
  
They scramble into the cave, move back into it further, and breathe a sigh of relief. "Long as there aren't any bat-things in this cave, we're safe," Autolycus says quietly.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Those men are from a desert land. They won't think to kick through bushes to find hidden caves. Why do you think they're making such noise in the forest? It's not their native turf." He leans against the wall.  
  
Muran cuddles up next to him and yawns. "We'll be safe, then? I can get some sleep?"  
  
"Sure thing, kid. I'll keep an eye on the cave opening, just in case."  
  
"You're not tired?"  
  
"Not at all. Now, get some shut-eye."  
  
Muran leans back and quickly dozes off. Autolycus stifles a yawn, rubs his eyes, and keeps a careful watch on the cave opening.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The old crone who gave Bellerophon his sight back stands over him once again. Bouh-L'ar stands to one side, and two of his guards hold the old man down.  
  
The old woman rummages through a satchel, pulling out small leather pouches and examining the contents. "No... no... needed that last week... no... that one's expired... no...:" She looks up. "I don't have any of the powder that 'assists' in making a man tell the truth, my lord," she says dejectedly.  
  
"Very well, then," Bouh-L'ar says. "Perhaps we will have to torture the information out of him."  
  
"Go ahead," Bellerophon says defiantly. "I won't tell you anything."  
  
"Bah!" Bouh-L'ar sneers, leaving the tent.  
  
Outside, Mahmoud stands guard.  
  
"Old bastard called my bluff," Bouh-L'ar complains. "Any sign of the two meddlers?"  
  
"None, my lord," Mahmoud says as quietly as his deep, booming voice will allow.  
  
Bouh-L'ar leans against a tent pole. "What do you think of Humi-Batiq's theory, Mahmoud?"  
  
"It bears investigation," Mahmoud replies. "And if the legends say these pagans got the 'golden bridle' from their 'goddess' Athena, the first place to look for it would be a temple dedicated to her."  
  
Bouh-L'ar looks up excitedly at his companion, calls out "You're brilliant, Mahmoud!" and walks off in a hurry..  
  
After a moment's silence watching his master walk off, Mahmoud says to himself, impassively, "I know."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Muran is cuddled up next to Autolycus, sleeping soundly. He, too, is asleep, his head tilted and resting on top of hers; he snores softly. Suddenly, Muran yelps and starts to jump up, knocking Autolycus hard in the chin and waking him up.  
  
"What is it? What's wrong?" he starts, before noticing a lizard has climbed partway up Muran's sleeve.  
  
He picks it up by the tail and sets it to the side, where it scurries off.  
  
"You scream like a girl," he says derisively, grinning, as he stands up. Muran looks dismayed at this description and stands also.  
  
"I thought it was a poisonous snake," she says in her defense, then pauses. "Hey, weren't you supposed to be keeping guard?"  
  
"Don't get technical." He glances out the cave entrance, seeing no signs of the men who were chasing them. It is dawn, and the light streams in to the cave.  
  
"Good way to wake us up, though," he continues. "Maybe we should take him with us, sort of an alarm lizard."  
  
Muran ignores this. "What should we do now?"  
  
"Try to rescue Bellerophon. Without him, those thieves will have no chance of stealing the Pegasus. With him, who knows?"  
  
CUT TO:  
  
A temple of Athena. The priestess, a tall, thin woman with hawkish features and flowing sandy hair, stares defiantly at Bouh-L'ar's drawn scimitar.  
  
"I'll tell you heathens nothing," she hisses. "Nothing."  
  
Bouh-L'ar regards her coldly. "Indeed? If memory serves, I think I saw a little girl playing outside on our way in. She looked like she belonged here. Daughter of yours?"  
  
The priestess's face goes pale.  
  
"I thought so," he continues with a sneer. "Maybe SHE can help persuade you. Mahmoud, go fetch that little girl."  
  
There is no movement behind him, and Bouh-L'ar turns sharply. "Mahmoud!"  
  
"No," Mahmoud says, betraying no signs of emotion.  
  
Bouh-L'ar rolls his eyes. "Oh, very well. Fudail?"  
  
"Right away, my lord," says another man in Bouh-L'ar's group, who turns and runs out the door.  
  
"I'll tell you, I'll tell you," the priestess cries. "Just don't hurt my baby..."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Bouh-L'ar, Mahmoud, Fudail and one other man leaving the temple.  
  
"I would really appreciate it if you didn't interfere with my bluffs, Mahmoud," Bouh-L'ar complains.  
  
"Never ask me to do such a thing," Mahmoud says calmly. "I would rather tear the heads off a thousand grown men than injure one child."  
  
"But we weren't REALLY going to hurt her."  
  
Mahmoud glowers at Bouh-L'ar with his one good eye. "The child would not know that. I would rather drive a thousand grown men to raving insanity than traumatize one---"  
  
"Alright, alright, drop it! Let's just find this cursed thing..."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus and Muran sneak toward the camp, and peer out from the bushes cautiously.  
  
"That sonnuva..." Autolycus starts.  
  
"What?" Muran asks.  
  
"Look over there." He points to horses tied up to posts nearby.  
  
"Haley!" Muran calls, before realizing what she is doing; she then whispers, "Haley? How'd he get here?"  
  
"Oh, I'm not sure," Autolycus grumbles. "Either he walked over to visit relatives, or he magically transported himself here... or the horse thieves found him in town and stole him, along with a bunch of other horses. What do YOU think?"  
  
Just as Autolycus starts to sneak over toward the horses, a tentflap opens. Autolycus dives into the midst of the horses, hiding himself.  
  
Humi-Batiq emerges from the tent, pulling Bellerophon by his arm.  
  
"I will NOT help with this," Bellerophon says wearily. "You can kill me if you'd like..."  
  
"Stop being so melodramatic," Humi-Batiq says. "When we take the Pegasus, we will need someone who knows how to guide it. This is your chance to ride him one more time."  
  
"What makes you think----"  
  
"That you WANT to ride the Pegasus again? I know that if I had once rode through the clouds, any other experience would likely pale in comparison."  
  
"You have no idea," Bellerophon says sadly.  
  
"And you know that your own ambition ruined it for you."  
  
Bellerophon sits down on a rock. "So you know the story?" He says. "The whole thing?"  
  
"I know that you decided that you would fly the Pegasus to Olympus, as if you were one of your pagan gods. And for your impudence, the leader of those gods sent a fly that stung the Pegasus, making it toss you off. The damage of that fall blinded and crippled you."  
  
Bellerophon buries his face in his withered hands. "I was arrogant, and it cost me more than any could imagine. I deserved to die..."  
  
"... But the gods decided to torture you by letting you live, in the condition we found you in," Humi-Batiq finishes.  
  
Their conversation is interrupted by hoofbeats, and Autolycus dives behind a watering trough to avoid being seen. Bouh-L'ar, riding his speckled grey horse Sharif, is in the lead, holding a woven sack. Riding on horses directly behind him are Fudail and another Arabian man; Mahmoud brings up the rear, on the back of a Clydesdale-sized pack horse. As he watches them, Autolycus reaches up to untie the rope that holds Haley.  
  
"I found it!" Bouh-L'ar calls out happily, holding up the sack.  
  
Bellerophon covers his eyes, sobbing gently.  
  
Bouh-L'ar leaps off his horse, and walks up to Humi-Batiq and hugs him. "This is all falling into place, finally!" Bouh-L'ar declares. "I won't have to---"  
  
He is interrupted by a blur of activity: Autolycus leaps out from behind the trough, grabs the sack from Bouh-L'ar's hand, vaults over two horses, leaps on the back of Haley, and takes off.  
  
Bouh-L'ar lets out a violent burst of Arabic profanity, and motions to his men. They race after Autolycus, and Bouh-L'ar and several other men leap onto other horses and join the chase. Only Mahmoud remains behind, and he doesn't seem the least bit interested in joining in.  
  
As Autolycus rides Haley full-tilt down the winding roads, he opens the sack, and pulls out a golden bridle. He looks at it curiously, then glances back and sees that the small army pursuing him is gaining. They are all swinging their swords menacingly, as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT FOUR  
  
Autolcyus races along, glancing back occasionally. The thieves are gaining on them.  
  
"You're gonna have to trust me on this one," he tells Haley before pulling the reins, causing the horse to swerve at an angle... and into the woods.  
  
Haley vaults over a fallen log and continues running full speed. Behind them, a horse stops when it sees the log, causing its rider to flip over its head and land hard on the log. He lies there moaning as other riders vault past him, continuing their pursuit. Low-lying tree limbs knock two more thieves off their mounts.  
  
But there are still Bouh-L'ar and three other men in pursuit. Autolycus looks around, desperate for any option. He tucks the top of the woven sack into his belt. He then lifts his feet onto Haley's back and stands, balancing precariously as the horse continues to run. "If this works, I'M going to be impressed," he mutters, leaping to grab hold of a tree limb.  
  
Haley runs off as Autolycus arcs around the limb, coming full-circle and slamming his feet into Bouh-L'ar's back.  
  
Bouh-L'ar is thrown off his horse, and Autolycus swings back upwards, letting go of the limb and flipping through the air to a higher limb. He narrowly catches it, then looks down toward the forest floor and lets out a sigh of relief. He grins at Bouh-L'ar. Bouh-L'ar sneers, then looks down on the ground and looks back up, smiling ear-to-ear. he kneels to the ground and reaches for something.  
  
"Hey, friend, I think you dropped this!" Bouh-L'ar says, holding up the woven sack containing the bridle. Autolycus looks down at his belt, where the sack is no longer securely tucked in.  
  
"For the luvva..." he mutters.  
  
"I'm sure you'll want to rejoin us at the camp, then," Bouh-L'ar taunts. "After all, my men have probably recaptured your daughter by now!"  
  
Bouh-L'ar climbs back onto his horse Sharif's back, and joins his men in riding away. Autolycus makes his way down the tree, and finds Haley waiting for him.  
  
"That guy is REALLY beginning to annoy me," Autolycus tells his horse.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Muran continues to watch from the bushes near the camp. Mahmoud is sharpening a gigantic scimitar, while Humi-Batiq reads over scrolls. Bellerophon sits dejectedly on a rock, not moving. There is a noise overhead, and everyone looks up; the Pegasus swoops over.  
  
"You have studied this horse-creature as long as we've been tracking it," Mahmoud says to Humi-Batiq.  
  
"Yes, that's true."  
  
"Have you figured out why it stays in this valley?" Mahmoud asks, still focusing his attention on sword-sharpening.  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. I thought perhaps it had some mystical connection."  
  
They look up as horses approach. Bouh-L'ar leaps off his horse and holds up the sack.  
  
"That fool tried to outsmart us, but fate was against him! I have the bridle again. What do we do with it now?"  
  
"Put it on the Pegasus," Humi-Batiq replies matter-of-factly.  
  
Bouh-L'ar looks out in the direction of the valley. "I would say we should wait til dawn, but that meddler will probably be coming back. Have you seen any signs of his daughter? She wasn't with him."  
  
"No, my lord," Humi-Batiq replies.  
  
"Mahmoud, go out into the woods. See if you find either the meddler or his daughter," Bouh-L'ar says.  
  
Mahmoud stands still, staring at him. Bouh-L'ar sighs and wearily adds "And don't hurt the daughter."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Mahmoud rumbles and heads into the woods.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Muran scrambles to hide as the massive man walks past her. She watches him as he goes further into the woods, then she sneaks along the edge of the camp, heading toward the valley. As soon as she is out of the line of sight of the thieves' camp, she breaks into a run, moving through the high grass and looking around desperately. There is a loud flapping noise and she looks up to see the Pegasus flying overhead as it arcs around the valley. This is her first clear view of the Pegasus, and her jaw drops. She runs underneath it, looking up entranced. "Wow," is all she can say.  
  
The Pegasus is fifty feet in the air, but is moving lower and lower as it heads toward a cluster of trees. It hits the ground at a gallop and folds its wings to its side, heading into the woods at a brisk pace. Muran follows.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The thieves' camp. Darkness has just fallen, and the men are sitting around the campfire eating once again.  
  
"Not so hard!" comes Autolycus's voice. The men turn. He is emerging from the woods, with Mahmoud behind him. He has twisted one of Autolycus's arms behind him and is escorting the "King of Thieves" quite roughly.  
  
Bouh-L'ar puts his plate aside and stands, grinning.  
  
Autolycus looks around quickly, concerned. Then he, too, grins. "Couldn't find the kid, eh?"  
  
"No need to worry. Mahmoud there won't let her be harmed."  
  
Autolycus glances back. "That's mighty kind of you, big fella. But if you don't mind, I think I'll keep that job."  
  
"You won't be able to once you're dead," Bouh-L'ar points out.  
  
Autolycus turns to him. "You've got a point there," he mutters.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The men stand around cheering and hooting. Autolycus is pushed harshly out of one tent. His shirt has been stripped off, and he is clad in nothing but his leather pants and boots. Two men are behind him, pushing him toward the center of the semi-circle the men have formed.  
  
"Can't we just arm-wrestle or something?" he asks wryly.  
  
The flap to another tent opens, and Mahmoud steps out. He, too, is bare- chested. At 6'9" and over 300 pounds, he does not appear to have an ounce of body fat. It is all muscle, as tightly woven as steel. His long black hair flows back over his shoulder, and he stares impassively with his one eye.  
  
"Then again, he'd probably kill me that way, too."  
  
Mahmoud raises his fists in battle stance and steps forward as the men behind Autolycus push him forward.  
  
"Look," Autolycus says, ducking a swing from Mahmoud's ham-sized fists. "The last time I was pushed into a fight like this, it was against a really ugly bat-creature. And I beat it."  
  
"Then you shouldn't have a problem," Bouh-L'ar laughs from the sidelines.  
  
Humi-Batiq stands next to Bouh-L'ar, and leans over to him. "Is this wise, my lord?"  
  
"The men deserve some entertainment, Batiq. A dose of Mahmoud's fists will convince the fool to stop bothering us. By the time he recovers, we will have captured the Pegasus and this accursed journey will be over."  
  
Autolycus keeps dodging to avoid Mahmoud's fists. The man is fast, but Autolycus is faster. Finally, Autolycus gets a chance to move in for a punch. He puts his entire body into it, driving his fist into Mahmoud's chin.  
  
Mahmoud seems surprised by the punch.... but not the least bit harmed. Autolycus, on the other hand, grabs his fist and cries out in pain. Mahmoud pulls back his arm, preparing for a mighty punch.  
  
"Please, not in the face," Autolycus whimpers.  
  
"YA-HOOOO!!!!" comes a cry from above. Mahmoud stops in mid-punch. Everyone looks up. The Pegasus flies overhead, with Muran on its back.  
  
Bellerophon, who has been sitting off to one side not wanting to watch the brutal fight, stands now, watching with wonder and admiration.  
  
"How is she doing that?" Bouh-L'ar demands. "I thought we needed the bridle..."  
  
"I know not, my lord," Humi-Batiq replies. "We should ask her."  
  
"I have a better idea, my lord," Fudail offers, lifting a crossbow. "We shoot the damned thing down and bind it."  
  
Bouh-L'ar turns. "Fudail, NO!" But the man is already pulling the trigger.  
  
Forty feet above, the arrow whizzes through the air and hits the Pegasus's hindquarters. It bucks convulsively, and Muran flips into the air. Before she can get her seating back, she tumbles off its back as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
"TO BE CONTINUED."  
  
END CREDITS ROLL, THEN SHRINK TO TINY PROPORTIONS...  
  
VOICEOVER: Next....  
  
(shot of the Arabian desert)  
  
VO: The King of Thieves ventures into an unknown land...  
  
(shot of Autolycus surrounded by bandits on a desert road. He is unshaven and looks pissed off. "I don't have TIME for this," he says through gritted teeth, before punching the head bandit)  
  
VO: On a rescue mission...  
  
(shot of the Pegasus struggling to pull itself from ropes as Arabian men race back and forth under it, grabbing hold of the ropes to hold it down.)  
  
VO: But what can one man do...  
  
(Autolycus racing along the slope of one of the Great Pyramids. Mahmoud is running behind him, and following Mahmoud are sword-wielding soldiers).  
  
VO: Against an army?  
  
(Autolycus works at the locks on a cage holding the Pegasus. He spins around. Dozens of Arabian soldiers surround him.)  
  
VO: On the next all-new Autolycus: The King of Thieves!  
  
No mythological winged horses were harmed during the making of this episode.  
  
  
  
VOICEOVER: "Previously, on Autolycus: The King of Thieves"....  
  
Lord Bouh-L'ar leaning in to the withered old beggar Bellerophon, and saying threateningly, "You will tell us how to snare the Pegasus."  
  
CUT TO: Autolycus, while trying to save Bellerophon from getting kidnapped, gets punched by Mahmoud, Bouh-L'ar's massive henchman.  
  
CUT TO: Pegasus bucking up on its hind legs as Bellerophon tries to approach it.  
  
CUT TO: Autolycus racing his horse Haley down winding roads, being pursued by Bouh-L'ar and a bunch of nasty-looking soldiers.  
  
CUT TO: Autolycus in a bare-chested fistfight with Mahmoud; Autolycus throws a punch that hits Mahmoud square in the jaw.  
  
Mahmoud seems surprised by the punch.... but not the least bit harmed. Autolycus, on the other hand, grabs his fist and cries out in pain. Mahmoud pulls back his arm, preparing for a mighty punch.  
  
CUT TO: Pegasus flying overhead, with Muran on its back  
  
Fudail, another of Bouh-L'ar's henchmen, lifts a crossbow. "We shoot the damned thing down and bind it."  
  
Bouh-L'ar turns. "Fudail, NO!" But the man is already pulling the trigger.  
  
Forty feet above, the arrow whizzes through the air and hits the Pegasus's hindquarters. It bucks convulsively, and Muran flips into the air. Before she can get her seating back, she tumbles off its back...  
  
FADE IN on a desert road. We are in an Arabic country, and the sun beats down fiercely. There is no sign of greenery anywhere, nor any water, just sand and rocks. A lone figure moves into view. As it gets closer, it becomes apparent that this is not a single being; it is a man riding atop a horse. The man is clad in dirty linens that were once white; they cover his body and another piece of linen rests on his head, wrapped around his face so only his eyes are exposed to the hot desert winds; the horse is sandy brown. It is weary, but obedient, and races along on the road.  
  
Suddenly, a wiry, young Arabian man steps out into the road, trying to flag down the traveller. "Please help," the man says desperately. "My brother Abbas has fallen down a well."  
  
The man on horseback stops, eyes the young man suspiciously, and then gets down off the horse. He pulls back the linen covering his face, revealing that he is Autolycus, the King of Thieves. He is unshaven; a beard has grown to the point where it is hard to make out the mustache and goatee that were once his only facial hair. His hair is unkempt, and his face is dirty. It looks like he hasn't had a bath, or gotten a good night's sleep, in some time. "Where is he?" the man asks.  
  
"This way." the young man says, leading him toward a side road.  
  
"Stay out of trouble," Autolycus tells the horse before following.  
  
"Hurry, hurry," the young man says, pleading.  
  
Autolycus walks around a boulder, following the young man, and finds himself surrounded by a half-dozen of the rattiest-looking highwaymen imaginable. Four of them are of Arabian descent; one is darker-skinned and one, a tall, gangly man with a thick mustache, is lighter-skinned than the rest, though still obviously of Middle Eastern descent.  
  
"Your money or your life," the mustached one says, smiling wickedly, lifting a shortsword.  
  
"I don't have TIME for this," Autolycus says through gritted teeth just before he throws a roundhouse punch. The mustached man is taken off-guard as the punch hits him squarely in the jaw and he falls backwards. The other bandits approach Autolycus menacingly.  
  
Autolycus ducks a sword-slash, then kicks the legs out from under the bandit who was trying to attack him. He rolls to avoid another slashing attack, then kicks another bandit in the face. Grabbing the sword the leader dropped, he slams the flat edge into the face of the darker-skinned bandit, who staggers back. He then pulls the sword the other way, and does the same maneuver to the fourth bandit, then back to the darker-skinned one, who was still dazed and now collapses with the second blow. A well- placed kick to the groin disables the mustached bandit, and then Autolycus grabs one of the few bandits still standing and slams him into another one. They crumple. Only the young, wiry one who led him down this path is still standing, having not been in the melee.  
  
"Now, if you DON'T have a brother who's fallen down a well, you're in big trouble," Autolycus growls.  
  
The young man turns to run. Autolycus whips out his grappling hook and tosses it in an arc. The cord catches the young man around the chest, wrapping around him, and Autolycus pulls the cord; the young man falls to the ground on his rump, his arms tied around him. Autolycus strolls up to him.  
  
"Please don't hurt me," the man says weakly.  
  
"If I wanted to hurt you, I'd have had the hook extended," Autolycus says coldly. "Tell you what. I'll let you go if you can answer one simple question."  
  
"Whatever you say," the man says fearfully.  
  
Autolycus leans in close. "Where can I find a filthy bastard named Lord Bouh-L'ar?"  
  
FADE OUT. OPENING CREDITS ROLL.  
  
ACT ONE  
  
FADE IN  
  
TITLE CARD: "DENS OF THIEVES"  
  
Autolycus rides the horse down a dirt road. As they come over a hill, they can see a village in the distance. "I'll be damned," Autolycus whispers. "The little scoundrel wasn't lying after all. At least, not about there being a town this way."  
  
"Now, Bouh-L'ar had better be here...." Autolycus continues, contemplating....  
  
FLASH BACK TO:  
  
The night of the battle for the Pegasus. In the chaos, Fudail, one of Bouh- L'ar's thieves fires a crossbow at the creature. The Pegasus is hit with a crossbow bolt. It bucks, tossing Muran, who was riding on its back, into the air. Before she can get her bearings, she tumbles backwards, off the horse, and narrowly grabs its long tail to keep from plunging forty feet.  
  
"You IDIOT!!!" Bouh-L'ar yells, slapping Fudail across the face. "Do you know what I would do to you if we lose this prize?"  
  
Above them, Muran hangs on for dear life as the Pegasus zigs and zags through the air. Back on the ground, Autolycus is trying to run underneath it... as is Mahmoud, the massive Arabian soldier who had been in a fistfight with Autolycus seconds earlier.  
  
The Pegasus swoops down. As it starts to arc back up, Muran loses her grip and plummets fifteen feet. Autolycus dives for her, but Mahmoud is the one who catches her. Muran is dazed, and Mahmoud gently lowers her to the ground.  
  
"Thanks," Autolycus says, a bit warily.  
  
"No harm to the child," Mahmoud says. "I promise that."  
  
"Glad to... hear it..." Muran says, wobbling dizzily.  
  
Meanwhile, the Pegasus arcs back down and stumbles along on the ground. In seconds, Bouh-L'ar's men are on it, tossing ropes over it. The horse whinnies defiantly, pulling with all its might, but sheer numbers keep it down.  
  
Off to one side, Bellerophon watches hopelessly, shaking his head at this travesty.  
  
Once the Pegasus has stopped resisting, Bouh-L'ar turns toward Autolycus and Muran. "How did you get the Pegasus to obey you without the bridle?" he demands.  
  
"I'm not going to tell YOU," she sneers.  
  
"Yes... I think you will." Bouh-L'ar looks up. "Mahmoud?"  
  
Before Autolycus and Muran can turn around to the giant man behind them, Mahmoud swings a karate chop onto the back of Autolycus's neck. The King of Thieves crumples. Muran drops beside him, checking him.  
  
"We'll bring her with us," Bouh-L'ar says. "Perhaps with time, she'll be more talkative."  
  
Mahmoud places a huge hand on Muran's shoulder and lifts her up. She looks back at him, tears streaming down her eyes. "If you broke his neck, I swear I'll..."  
  
"He will be alright," Mahmoud says. "You will come with us."  
  
She fights to stay at Autolycus's side, but is no match for Mahmoud's strength.  
  
As he leads her away, Mahmoud turns and looks down at the unconscious body of Autolycus. "No harm to the child," he repeats. "I promise that."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
One of the towers of a small castle in the center of the village. Bedsheets tied into a rope fly out the window, and Muran starts to shimmy down them. She is clad in ornate purple and yellow clothes, with harem pants and a vest. As she works her way down, a head pops out the window above. It is Mahmoud. He scowls at her, and starts to lift the bedsheet-rope. Muran tries to hurry down before he can stop her, but realizes that she is in for a twenty-foot drop. She frowns as she is lifted back into the window.  
  
"That was not safe," Mahmoud says matter-of-factly.  
  
"I don't WANT to be safe," Muran cries, "I want to be with Autolycus!"  
  
"He is a continent away. Until Lord Bouh-L'ar learns what he needs from you, you will stay here, and I will protect you."  
  
"I'm NEVER going to tell him anything."  
  
"Then you shall be here for a long time."  
  
She looks back to the window, teary-eyed. "I'll get out of here somehow, Autolycus," she whispers.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus rides into the town. It is a sandier version of many small towns he has been to in the past. There are some larger than average buildings, but the building that forms the center of the town is massive by comparison... a small castle, in fact. He squints. "I could swear I see some activity up there," he says., then shrugs it off. "That better be Bouh- L'ar's castle."  
  
Locals stop and stare; they are obviously not used to European visitors. He nods at them, pretending nothing is amiss. "Excuse me?" he says to one none- too-friendly-looking fruit vendor. "Is that Lord Bouh-L'ar's castle?"  
  
The man glances where Autolycus is pointing, then looks back to him. "Bouh- L'ar lives there, but it belongs to King Diya Al-Din."  
  
"Thanks," Autolycus says, then rides on.  
  
The man scowls at him. "Could'a bought a pomegranite, you cheap bastard," he grumbles. "Last time I give out free information."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus gets near the castle, and it becomes obvious that the entire area is heavily guarded. He dismounts and ties the horse to a post outside a bar, then goes in. The inside of the bar is a smokey, atmospheric place, filled with music provided by a drummer, flutist and lute-player off to one corner. Men, most of them heavy and clad in fine silks, sit around puffing on hookahs, swigging multicolored liquors, or ogling the belly dancer who performs in the center of the room. Autolycus takes it all in, especially the lovely belly dancer, before moving over to the bar. A husky, elderly Arabian man with thick sideburns glances at him suspiciously.  
  
"I need some information," Autolycus says, keeping his voice low. "And, uh... he glances at what nearby patrons are drinking... some of that blue stuff."  
  
The bartender pours it. "What sort of information?," he asks, seemingly disinterested.  
  
"Do you know if a girl is being held at the castle in the center of town? About eleven years old, from the Orient? Eats like a herd of horses?"  
  
"I wouldn't know that sort of thing," the bartender says, putting the lid back on the blue liquor's bottle.  
  
"Oh, come now," Autolycus says. "Bartenders know everything." He takes a swig of the blue liquor, gasps, and almost drops the glass. His eyes bulge.  
  
"At the very least, we know what kind of drinks we can handle," the bartender says with a smirk. "Well, I do have some patrons who are guards at the castle. They say things when they think I'm not listening."  
  
"Such as?" Autolycus wheezes.  
  
"Well, normally I'd charge for this information... but I don't like them very much. They have a child up there, and apparently she's more trouble than they can handle. Keeps trying to escape."  
  
"Good girl."  
  
"Some of them want to beat her into submission, but she has a protector. Bouh-L'ar has a Bedouin Prince in his servitude. Huge fellow named Mahmoud ibn-Mousa, capable of fighting ten men at a time and coming out the victor. Some claim he once lifted a horse over his head and threw it on top of an enemy."  
  
"Yeah, we met," Autolycus mutters.  
  
"Anyhow, Mahmoud has let it be known if anyone touches a hair on the girl's head, they won't have any arms to touch anything else with. I don't know if this girl is the one you're looking for, but she's in safe hands. Once a Bedouin makes a pledge, he'll fight to the death the uphold it."  
  
"Well, that's comforting, but I still want to rescue her. Any suggestions?"  
  
"Not on your life," the bartender says gruffly. "Bouh-L'ar is only a figurehead here, but he's still plenty dangerous. His guards come in here occasionally, but the only outsiders who get to go into the castle are Wafiyyah over there"---he motions toward the belly-dancer -- "and her musicians."-- he motions to the seedy-looking musical trio. The bartender leans forward, and very deliberately and slowly finishes, "and that is all I can tell you."  
  
Autolycus glances back at the belly-dancer, who is finishing her routine. "Um... could I have a word with Wafiyyah, there?"  
  
The bartender grins. "If she says it's alright, it's alright."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The storage rooms in back of the bar. Wafiyyah sits on top of a barrel, sipping from a cup. She is clearly exhausted from dancing. The bartender stands in the doorway.  
  
"Oh, very well," she says wearily. "I'll speak with him. But stay near the door. If this is some come-on, I want you to drag him out into the street and flog him."  
  
"Of course." The bartender turns. "You may speak with her."  
  
Autolycus walks in, and the bartender leaves the room, but hovers near the door.  
  
Outside of the smoke-filled outer room, Autolycus can make out more clearly what a beautiful woman Wafiyyah is. She has silky, tousled black hair that goes down a few inches past her shoulders. Her face is rounded, with almond- shaped eyes. Her skin is light brown, her eyes a surprisingly dark shade of green. Long earrings hang from each ear, made of what appear to be a mix of diamonds and emeralds. She has a tiara, the center of which is a walnut- sized emerald. She is clad in semi-translucent green and white silks, with plenty of flesh exposed. In a different circumstance, Autolycus would make a move on her immediately, but he is a man on a mission.  
  
"I have a proposition for you," he starts.  
  
"I'm a dancer, not a prostitu---"  
  
"No, no. A young girl under my care has been taken hostage by Lord Bouh- L'ar, and I have to try to rescue her."  
  
"I'm listening..."  
  
"To do that, I need to get access to the castle...."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Wafiyyah dances merrily toward the castle. "I've come to perform for his majesty, as usual," she tells the guards, running her finger under their chins playfully.  
  
They hold open the castle gate, and she starts to move in, followed by her four musicians...  
  
Once they are inside the castle walls, Autolycus, clad in a turban and holding a tamborine, glances around as they head into the central building, the first floor of which is a dining chamber. Wafiyyah looks out the corner of her eye to see Autolycus duck off into a side-corridor. She grins, and continues to dance about, keeping most of the men in the chamber happily distracted as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT TWO  
  
FADE IN  
  
Autolycus works his way cautiously through the back corridors of the dining hall. He ducks behind a barrel as chefs walk past, arguing, then peers through some curtains. Directly in front of him, no more than three feet away, Lord Bouh-L'ar sits on a balcony. Two concubines are with him, fawning over him, but he pays them no attention as he gazes longingly down at Wafiyyah, who is dancing up a storm. The ground level has various members of Bouh-L'ar's court seated, watching, and guards at every doorway don't seem to be paying much attention to guarding the doorways, their heads swiveling lightly in rhythm with her hips. In another balcony, across the chamber, Autolycus sees Mahmoud, chewing on a piece of spiced meat about the size of a football. Beside him, absently munching away at a plateful of appetizers.. is Muran.  
  
Autolycus pulls back behind the curtain before he breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods," he mutters, then moves along the corridor toward them.  
  
As he is about to reach the curtain leading to the balcony he saw Muran on, a hand falls on his shoulder. He turns his head to see a bald man... Humi- Batiq, Bouh-L'ar's advisor.  
  
"And where do you think you are going?" Batiq starts. "Say, I recognize you..."  
  
"Glad to hear it," Autolycus says, throwing a punch that knocks Batiq against a wall. "Then I won't have to explain what that was for."  
  
Autolycus moves over to the man, and prepares to punch him again, when another hand grabs his fist to stop him. He looks up in surprise. The hand is massive, and it is attached to Mahmoud. Mahmoud lifts Autolycus off the ground, as the King of Thieves tries to spin around. The curtains part behind Mahmoud, and Muran looks at what the melee is.  
  
"Autolycus!!" She cries happily.  
  
"Small world, fancy running into you here," Autolycus says, trying to ignore the pain of Mahmoud's tightening grip.  
  
"Let him down!" Muran cries, punching at Mahmoud's side. She might as well be hitting a brick wall.  
  
"My duty is to Bouh-L'ar," Mahmoud tells Muran dispassionately, then carries Autolycus through the curtain.  
  
"My lord," he says in his booming voice. "I have found a visitor." He holds Autolycus high. Everyone turns, the music comes to a halt, and Wafiyyah stops dancing.  
  
Bouh-L'ar stands, and leans on the rail of his balcony seat. "You MUST be kidding. Mahmoud, kill that pest once and for all."  
  
"If you do, I'll throw myself out a window," Muran says in a threatening whisper. "I mean it."  
  
Mahmoud looks down at her, then back across at his master. "Perhaps the dungeon would be a better option," he suggests.  
  
Bouh-L'ar clearly doesn't like having his orders questioned, but he's also clearly used to Mahmoud not being receptive to some of his orders. "Very well, then. But make sure he has no tools of any sort. He's supposed to be a master thief, and I don't want him escaping. Last time we caught him, he had dozens of tools hidden in all parts of his clothing."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Mahmoud says, turning. Muran runs alongside him, trying to get a closer look at Autolycus.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll figure out something," she says.  
  
"I'm just glad to see you safe," Autolycus says, wincing.  
  
"Will you GIVE ME A MINUTE??" Muran cries out, kicking at Mahmoud.  
  
"You can talk to him through the cell door."  
  
"Look, kid, don't worry about me," Autolycus says. "I'll be fine. You just stay safe and find a way to escape from these thugs. If I'm not around, get back to Greece.. . find Hercules or Xena, or maybe Eroicus... one of them will take care of you."  
  
"I'm not leaving you!" she protests.  
  
Mahmoud stops at the dungeon door. He looks down at Muran. "It is best you leave for a moment."  
  
"No!" she cries.  
  
"I am about to strip this man of his clothes. You are too young to see a naked man."  
  
"Strip me of my...." Autolycus starts. "Oh, come on!"  
  
Mahmoud reaches into Autolycus's vest, and pulls out a handful of tools that clatter to the floor.  
  
"Maybe you better turn around for a minute, kid," Autolycus says, resigned to his fate.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus is looking through the barred window on the dungeon cell door. We can make out his bare chest, but the lower half of the door is solid metal. Muran looks through the bars at him.  
  
"How did you ever find me?" She asks.  
  
"Dumb luck," Autolycus replies. "And persistence. You're not gettin' away from me that easily."  
  
She smiles a bit, then frowns. Tears are welling in her eyes. "We'll both get out of here, I promise," She says. She reaches up to the bar and touches his hand, then Mahmoud drags her away.  
  
As soon as she is out of his line of sight, Autolycus starts pacing the dungeon cell. "Not a stitch of cloth in here anywhere," he grumbles.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Early morning. Autolycus is huddled in one corner of the dingy cell, his head propped against the wall, snoring softly. There is a rattling at the door. He starts to stand, then thinks better of it, remembering his nakedness.  
  
A guard opens the cell door and pushes another figure in. It is a shriveled old Arabian man wearing a hooded cape. "You have company, 'King of Thieves'," the guard says with a snide laugh.  
  
The old man stumbles and falls down a few steps. Autolycus moves over to check him.  
  
"You okay, old-timer?" he asks, helping the man up.  
  
"Never better," the old man replies in a distinctly female, and relatively youthful, voice.  
  
Autolycus is taken aback. The old man pulls back the hood, and he is still quite clearly an elderly man. He grins. "You should be glad my sister had sympathy for you," the old man says with the disconcerting voice. "Otherwise, you might rot down here until you were nothing but..." the old man glances down and smirks. "skin and bones."  
  
"I beg your pardon!" Autolycus protests.  
  
The old man rolls his eyes. "Oh, very well." He reaches down to his chest and grabs hold of an area just below his collarbone. There doesn't appear to be anything there, though. As his withered hand clenches across an area, a necklace with a scarab design in the center materializes in his grasp. The old man's features melt away, revealing an attractive young woman.  
  
She strongly resembles Wafiyyah, only a few years younger, not as buxom, and thinner in the face. Her clothing did not change. She grins. Autolycus glances down, then asks, "uh, can I borrow that cape?"  
  
The woman smiles playfully, then says, "Oh, I suppose so." She tosses it to him, and he wraps it around his waist.  
  
"Nice trick, how'd you do that?"  
  
"Ancient Egyptian secret," she says. "I'm Leila. You met my sister, Wafiyyah, earlier. After you were captured, she got in contact with my... people... about the need to rescue you. Here..." she puts the necklace around his neck, then steps back. His features morph into those of the old man, and Leila runs to the door and starts yelling. "Guards! Guards!!! Help!!!"  
  
A guard comes to the door. "Who are you?"  
  
"I work in the kitchen. I was bringing gruel to the prisoners, when the big handsome one knocked me down, stole my clothes, and ran out. This old beggar was kind enough to give me his clothes." She motions back to Autolycus/old man.  
  
"Yes," Autolycus says, trying his best to sound convincingly like an old man and failing miserably. "He went up those stairs." he points to a stairwell near the cell door.  
  
"I'll be back to free you in a minute," the guard says, running for the stairs. Leila watches him go. "Twerp, could have let me out, but noooo..." She pulls a lockpicking tool out of a hidden pocket on her pants leg and starts working at the lock. The door opens, and she sneaks out, followed by Autolycus/old man.  
  
"If I can find Muran, we can get out of here," he says.  
  
"That's the child you're trying to rescue? No such luck. She was taken out of here first thing this morning, along with something large in a heavily- guarded wagon. They were heading toward King al-Din's castle."  
  
Autolycus/old man growls. "Damn it. How far is that?"  
  
"About a day's hard ride," Leila says. "But I have friends tracking the wagon now, and they'll keep an eye on it til we get there."  
  
The guards are running chaotically around, trying to find the escaped prisoner, and fail to pay much attention as the two of them walk out of the castle.  
  
They reach the bar, and Autolycus looks around. "I left a horse tied up to this post last night. Where'd he go?"  
  
"Thieves probably stole him," Leila says, motioning to a stable. He follows her in and finds the horse, contentedly eating straw.  
  
"So, what's your intrest in all this?" Autolycus asks. "Just because your sister felt sympathetic to my story?" He takes the necklace off and morphs back into Autolycus.  
  
"Actually, I think she's kind of sweet on you," Leila says. "Kept describing how cute you are, how much you care about this child you're protecting, how daring you are, and so on, and so on. But truth be told, my boss is a lot more interested in what Bouh-L'ar is transporting than he is in you or the child."  
  
"Who's your boss?" Autolycus asks, helping her onto the horse.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus and Leila stand in front of a mountain. A giant stone is lifting up, as if by magic, with a huge grinding noise; the stone looked to be a part of the mountain, but it is now obvious that it was only a false covering that hid a cave opening. A group of men and women stand inside the cave door. Some of them are Arabian, some Egyptian, some from lower regions of Africa and a few look like they might be from parts of Europe and Asia. In the front of the crowd is a tall, lean Arabian man with his arms at his sides. He has a thick beard, greying hair worn in a ponytail, and a devilish gleam in his eye. Leila steps into the cave, followed by Autolycus. "Autolycus, King of Thieves," she says, "meet Ali Baba, King of Thieves."  
  
Ali Baba embraces Autolycus as if he were an old friend.  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
ACT THREE  
  
FADE IN  
  
On the courtyard of a massive, majestic castle. In the distance, pyramids and a statue can be seen. Men are crowded in the courtyard, around a large wagon. Nearby, Bouh-L'ar, Humi-Batiq and Mahmoud watch... Muran is also there, next to Mahmoud, but she seems upset. The elderly Bellerophon is also there, not willing to look up and watch this debacle.  
  
"Quit hurting him!" she cries out.  
  
"We are NOT going to hurt the Pegasus," Bouh-L'ar sniffs.  
  
"Tell that to your thugs out there!"  
  
Bouh-L'ar sighs. "A little more delicately, men," he calls out. "Anyone who damages that horse in any way will get the same treatment Fudail did."  
  
The men turn, eyes wide, then return to their work, far more cautious and delicate now.  
  
The Pegasus trots out and tries to take flight, but is held down by ropes and chains.  
  
"We have tried the bridle," Humi-Batiq says. "At first it seemed to work, and Fahd rode the Pegasus. But it threw him off when it got high enough for the fall to kill him. The bridle may only work for Bellerophon, or its magic might have worn off. So what was your secret, child?"  
  
"You'll never know," Muran snorts.  
  
"Look," Bouh-L'ar says, trying to sound civil to her. "If you tell us, I'll let your father out of that dungeon. If not, he's food for the jackals."  
  
"Why should I believe any of your promises?"  
  
Bouh-L'ar rolls his eyes. "We HAVE to train this accursed horse in the next three days. You either help us, or you---" he stops, noticing that Mahmoud is cracking his knuckles menacingly---"well, never mind the details, just know I'll take this out on your father."  
  
"He's not my father," she mutters. "He's my friend."  
  
"Not your father?" Bouh-L'ar seems surprised. "If he isn't a blood relation, why would he try so hard to retrieve you?"  
  
"Because he cares about me!"  
  
"Well, if he ever escapes from the prison --- which he better not be able to do --- I predict he'll high-tail it back to Greece without giving you a second thought. 'Friends', indeed."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Several hundred yards away, on a cliffside, Autolycus, Ali Baba, Leila and several other thieves crouch and watch what is going on. "She's there," Leila says. "So what is this prized possession they've stolen?"  
  
Autolycus starts to answer, but then notices that the wagon door is being opened. "You'll see in a second."  
  
We see a repeat, from a distance, of the earlier shot of the Pegasus trotting out and trying to take flight but being held down by ropes and chains. "Wow," Leila and Ali Baba say in unison.  
  
"That creature would be worth a king's ransom," Ali Baba says admiringly.  
  
"First priority is to rescue the kid," Autolycus says harshly. "Then, we can worry about the value of that damned horse. I'd suggest we use Leila's necklace to get in there undetected...."  
  
"Won't work," she says. "Bouh-L'ar has an Egyptian advisor, Humi-Batiq. He knows how the magic works, and could see through it."  
  
"We could storm the place," Ali Baba says. "After all, there are forty-two of us."  
  
"Nothing that puts Muran at risk," Autolycus says. "Maybe I should sneak in. Or....." he starts, glancing at Leila and grinning.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The gates of King al-Din's castle. Leila walks toward the door stiffly. She is dressed as a belly dancer. Behind her are Autolycus in a turban, and two other members of Ali Baba's thieves, a burly black man with a scar down his left cheek and a lean Arabic woman who, though only in her early 20s, has a pronounced white streak in her hair.  
  
"Dance," Autolycus whispers harshly. "Don't walk like a zombie."  
  
Leila rolls her eyes and starts to dance around, very unconvincingly.  
  
The guards at the front gate don't seem to mind; Leila may not be as well- stacked as her sister, but she is still quite fetching. "Hello, boys," she says. "I'm Wafiyyah. I dance for Lord Bouh-L'ar, and I heard he was coming here. Is that true?"  
  
"We're not supposed to---" one starts.  
  
"Yes," the other one interrupts. "I can get him if you'd like."  
  
"I'd love that," she coos. "Can my musicians and I come in from the heat?"  
  
"Sure," the first guard says, opening the gate for them, "but we can't let you past the front chamber til we get this verifie---" He is interrupted by a lute, wielded by the burly black man, being cracked across his head. The lean Arabic woman swings her drum up and conks the other guard, then brings it back down to knock him out altogether.  
  
Autolycus turns to Leila. "Give me five minutes to find Muran. If I don't come back, open the gate for the rest of your people and we'll try Ali Baba's plan."  
  
"Gotcha," Leila says, and watches him race off. "My sister may have a point, Nizam," she says to the lean Arabic woman. "He IS kind of cute."  
  
"Not my type," Nizam says non-committally. "But if we run into ibn-Mousa, he IS."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus runs along low to the ground to avoid being seen. He reaches the edge of the courtyard, and then picks up a pebble and tosses it at Muran. "Ow!" she says, turning around. Her eyes go wide.  
  
"What is wrong?" Mahmoud asks, turning his attention away from the men trying to get the Pegasus to stop bucking and fighting.  
  
"Nothing," she says quickly. "I just... have to go to the bathroom."  
  
Mahmoud frowns. "I suppose that is alright. After all, the guards will not let you leave the castle grounds."  
  
Muran heads over to the stairwell and heads up it, winking at Autolycus. He glances back to make sure no one is watching and follows her.  
  
At the top of the stairwell, Muran turns and hugs Autolycus. "Thank the gods," she whispers. "I was worried about what they'd do to you in that dungeon..."  
  
"I'm fine, kid," he says. "Let's go, quickly." He grabs her arm and drags her along toward the front gate.  
  
When they get there, Leila looks back over her shoulder. "Good timing," she says. "Should we go ahead with Baba's plan now? Storm the castle, try to get the Pegasus back?"  
  
"Too many soldiers in that courtyard," Autolycus says. "It's not worth bloodshed. We'll figure something sneakier."  
  
"Ah, well," Ali Baba says, a bit disappointed. "A raid would have made for a good tale to tell..."  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Nighttime. In a cave near the castle, Ali Baba and his men are eating a veritable feast. The burly black man comes back from the cave entrance. "The scouting parties Bouh-L'ar sent out seem to be returning to the castle," he reports to Ali Baba. "They must be giving up the search for the girl."  
  
Muran looks up. She is holding an overstuffed gyro in one hand, and cucumber juice is dripping down her chin. "I doubt they'll give up. They think I'm the only one who knows how to ride the Pegasus."  
  
"How DID you figure that out, anyhow?" Autolycus asks. He is now shaven back to his normal goatee-and -beard look, and has fresh clothes.  
  
"I didn't tame him at all," she says. "He let me ride him. I think he senses that I'm not trying to abduct him."  
  
"Such matters can wait until morning!" Ali Baba declares. "Did I tell you yet of how I came to lead the forty thieves?"  
  
"No...." Autolycus says uncertainly.  
  
"Well, I was a young man at the time," Ali starts, and from the expressions of others around the campfire it is obviously not a short story...  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Late night. Most everyone is asleep. Muran is cuddled up next to Autolycus. She dozes softly, but he has managed to politely stay awake for Ali Baba's story.  
  
"And that, my friends, is the truth!" Ali Baba concludes. Leila glances at Autolycus and rolls her eyes.  
  
"Now, if you will excuse me, I must sleep. Recounting my adventures has reminded me how very tired I am." Ali Baba says, getting up and moving over to some blankets.  
  
Leila nudges Autolycus, motioning for him to follow. She moves back into the caverns, into a side tunnel far from everyone else. "Baba means well, but he is an incorrigible liar," she says in a whisper. "And a rather boring storyteller."  
  
"I gathered as much," Autolycus replies. "But he has agreed to help us. Without the Pegasus, Muran and I face a long journey home."  
  
"Are you sure you want to GO home?" Leila asks, sliding her arms around his neck. "This land has much to offer you..."  
  
"I'm sure it does," he says with a sly grin, "I have to admit, it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to--mmmph!!" he is cut off by a lingering kiss from her.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Morning. Autolycus nudges Muran, who wakes from her slumber, rubbing her eyes.  
  
"Okay, kid. I worked out the plan, and it's pretty darn brilliant if I say so myself."  
  
"So we are going to rescue the Pegasus?"  
  
"Well, we're going to try..."  
  
They move over to where breakfast is being prepared.  
  
"Any details?" Muran asks, picking up a piece of fruit.  
  
"Better you don't hear them, they'd just worry you," Autolycus grins.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Inside a building within the castle walls. Bouh-L'ar paces nervously. "That... CREATURE... is untameable, Batiq!" He bellows. "I should just slay it and sell it to a taxidermist!"  
  
"An unwise move," Batiq says. "If we can recapture the girl, we will find how she tamed it. The desert is a hostile place for foreigners, they will turn up soon enough. And Mahmoud is still out there searching for them."  
  
"Yes, but---"  
  
"My lord?" A guard interrupts.  
  
Bouh-L'ar turns angrily. "What is it?"  
  
"We found this man trying to unlock the Pegasus's cage."  
  
Behind the guard, Autolycus (another two guards behind him) pops around the corner and waves. "Long time, no see...." he says, smiling.  
  
Bouh-L'ar and Batiq stare dumbfounded. Autolycus strolls into the chamber, past the guards as if they posed no threat. He picks up a piece of fruit from a basket on Bouh-L'ar's desk, wipes it on his sleeve, and tosses it into the air. "So, I take it you want to learn how to ride the Pegasus?" He asks, taking a bite and leaning against the desk.  
  
"Yes," Bouh-L'ar says, "And you have come to trick me in some diabolical way. Guards, take him to the dungeon."  
  
"Ah-ah-ah," Autolycus scolds, waving his finger. "I think you'd be interested in knowing about... the second bridle."  
  
"What bridle?" Bouh-L'ar demands.  
  
"The one Muran found, that controls the horse."  
  
"I saw no bridle on the damned thing---"  
  
"And you know that the only way it could be controlled was with a bridle from the gods, right?"  
  
"Right." Bouh-L'ar says uncertainly.  
  
"But you didn't see a bridle when Muran was riding it."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Which either means that she found a way the gods hadn't counted on to ride it, or..."  
  
"Or what?" Bouh-L'ar demands, watching Autolycus nibble at the fruit.  
  
"Or it's invisible."  
  
Bouh-L'ar is taken aback. "An invisible bridle?"  
  
"Why not? The gods can make themselves invisible, they've created helmets that make the wearer invisible... it's a pretty easy trick, as godly powers go."  
  
Humi-Batiq crosses his arms. "This is obviously a deception, my lord."  
  
Bouh-L'ar contemplates this. "No, there's something to this... this man would have to be a complete idiot to come here with this story if it was a lie."  
  
"Or maybe I just think you're a complete idiot I can fool with this nonsense," Autolycus offers, picking a pear from the basket. "But there's only one way you'll ever know."  
  
"Which is?" Bouh-L'ar growls. He is growing impatient with this conversation.  
  
"Give us a lift back to Greece. At the speeds the Pegasus can fly, it would take less than a day."  
  
"And when you get back to Greece, I suppose you will have your cohorts jump Bouh-L'ar and take the horse back," Batiq says sarcastically.  
  
Autolycus rolls his eyes. "MAN, I'm getting sick of you." He throws a roundhouse punch that catches Batiq off-guard and knocks him against a wall. Batiq crumples, unconscious. Bouh-L'ar starts to move forward, pulling his scimitar. The door slams open, and Mahmoud stands there. "Good timing," Bouh-L'ar says smugly. "Mahmoud, take this scum and tear him into six... no, make it seven... pieces. Meanwhile, I'm going to check on the Pegasus, make sure none of his cohorts snuck in with him."  
  
Mahmoud nods and moves forward menacingly as Autolycus backs up....  
  
FADE OUT  
  
ACT FOUR  
  
FADE IN  
  
Ali Baba and his men and women gather behind rocks, moving around cautiously to see what is going on at the castle. "To storm al-Din's castle, that would be an adventure to recount," Ali Baba says wistfully.  
  
"But that's not the plan," Muran protests.  
  
"Perhaps it should be."  
  
Muran rolls her eyes and looks to the castle.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus leans out the window and looks down to see Bouh-L'ar approaching the Pegasus's cage.  
  
"Good, it worked," he says, turning to face Mahmoud.  
  
Mahmoud leans down and kisses Autolycus full on the lips.  
  
Autolycus backs up, spitting and wiping his lip. "That is NOT funny!!!"  
  
"I thought it was pretty amusing," Mahmoud says in Leila's lilting voice. He reaches up to his chest and grabs hold of a scarab-shaped jewel that suddenly appears. As "he" grasps it, Mahmoud morphs into Leila's form. "I take it you prefer this?", she asks.  
  
Autolycus frowns. "Far and away. I had no idea facial hair was so itchy. Okay, time for the second phase. Change back"  
  
Leila lets go of the necklace and morphs back into Mahmoud's shape; he then pulls Autolycus's arm behind his back and leads him down the steps to the courtyard... roughly. "Not so hard!" Autolycus whispers over his shoulder.  
  
"Got to maintain the illusion," Leila says.  
  
They get down to the courtyard. Bouh-L'ar turns. "What is it , Mahmoud? Why is that dog still alive?"  
  
Mahmoud thumps the back of Autolycus's head.  
  
"Allright, all right already," Autolycus says, wincing. "I'm not alone. I brought a force of twenty--" Mahmoud tightens the grip on Autolycus's arm, and Autolycus winces... "Okay, forty-- warriors with me. Soldiers of Athena, the goddess who protects the Pegasus."  
  
"Which way are they coming?" Bouh-L'ar demands.  
  
"From Azhar," Autolycus says. Mahmoud tightens the grip again. "Okay, okay, from Kadir!" Autolycus cries out.  
  
"Very well, then," Bouh-L'ar says, turning. "Men, prepare to mobilize! We will set up the castle's defenses, but to protect my investment one-fourth of you will escort me as we move this beast to Azhar!"  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Bouh-L'ar rides at the lead of a group of twenty men heading down the desert road away from the castle. The Pegasus is in its cage, and Autolycus is tied up on the back of a horse being ridden by Mahmoud. They round a corner and see a figure in the middle of the road. It is Nizam, the lean Arabic woman with the white streak in her hair. She is lying with her leg at a painful-looking angle.  
  
"Oh, praise Allah!" she cries upon seeing them. "My horse threw me, and I think my leg is broken."  
  
Bouh-L'ar motions to two of his guards to help her. They climb off their horses and move toward her.  
  
Suddenly, there is a loud roar as around them, Ali Baba and his thieves race from behind boulders and out of ditches, swords ready.  
  
A fight ensues, but Bouh-L'ar's men are outnumbered two to one and caught by surprise. Bouh-L'ar leaps off his horse at the same time "Mahmoud" does. He turns to Mahmoud and yells "Kill as many as you can! We won't go down without a fight!"  
  
"Aw, give it a rest," Mahmoud says in Leila's distinctly feminine voice. Bouh-L'ar's eyes bug out just before he finds himself on the receiving end of a punch from the fake Mahmoud. He stumbles back.  
  
"I have no idea what trickery this is," he snarls, "but you have nowhere near the strength of the REAL Mahmoud, imposter..."  
  
"She gets the job done," comes a voice from behind Bouh-L'ar. He spins to see Autolycus, who has easily worked his way out of the ropes. "Which is more than I can say for your incompetent gang of horse thieves." Autolycus throws a wide punch that knocks Bouh-L'ar backwards.  
  
Meanwhile, Muran has made her way through the chaos and to the cage. She opens the lock and lets the Pegasus trot out. Rubbing its head and neck gently, she cautiously climbs onto its back. A few beats of its massive wings, and the Pegasus lifts off the ground.  
  
Autolycus motions to "Mahmoud," who pushes Bouh-L'ar roughly to one side. Before Bouh-L'ar can get his bearings, Autolycus punches him again.. and then a third time.. and a fourth, and a fifth, each time causing Bouh-L'ar to stumble back a few steps. A final kick to the chest knocks Bouh-L'ar into the wagon that served as the Pegasus's cage. Autolycus slams the door shut and smirks.  
  
"That's taken care of," he says with smug satisfaction.  
  
"Not quite," comes a booming voice. Autolycus and the fake Mahmoud turn. There is the real Mahmoud, and behind him are two dozen troops.  
  
Ali Baba's forces rise up against them, and the fight is renewed.  
  
Mahmoud, meanwhile, strides forward, focused entirely on his alternate self. Leila-as-Mahmoud steps back cautiously, then grabs hold of the scarab necklace and morphs back to Leila form. "I'm a girl, you can't hit girls, right? Bedouin code of honor?" she says uncertainly.  
  
Mahmoud turns to Autolycus. "This one, I can hit." he rumbles.  
  
Autolycus leaps onto a horse and races off. Mahmoud turns to Leila, reaches out and grabs the necklace. "No more mischief," he says, pulling it off her. Then he climbs onto his horse, motions for some of the soldiers to follow, and takes off after Autolycus.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The base of one of the pyramids near the castle. Autolycus races his horse up to the base, then leaps off and starts scrambling up the side of the pyramid. Mahmoud and his men follow. The men have their swords ready, and are chasing him at a furious pace. Autolycus reaches the top of the pyramid, and looks around desperately. Mahmoud is almost on him when something swoops down from the sky. It is the Pegasus, and Muran grabs Autolycus by the scruff of his jacket and holds on with all her strength as the Pegasus pulls him into the air. Mahmoud leaps up, grabbing one of the Pegasus's hind hooves. The horse beats its wings more fiercely, and lifts high into the air.  
  
Autolycus manages to get to a seated position and looks down. "Uh-oh, kid, we've got company." Mahmoud stares up intently as he tries to maintain a grip, but the Pegasus kicks its legs, shaking him back and forth. They are easily 100 feet up in the air.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
The castle. Batiq, nursing a bruise from being punched by Autolycus, notices Bellerophon standing at a window.  
  
"What are you looking at, old man?" Batiq asks, moving closer.  
  
"A free spirit," Bellerophon says with a smile.  
  
Batiq looks past him and sees the Pegasus in the distance, swooping away from the pyramids. Batiq's face goes pale. Bellerophon laughs.  
  
CUT TO:  
  
"Can you tell this thing to calm down?," Autolycus asks. "I don't particularly want to see the big guy turn into a flat guy..."  
  
"I can't control it," Muran says. "Only convince it. And I don't think---"  
  
Suddenly Mahmoud loses his grip and starts to fall.  
  
Autolycus whips his arm up and extends his grappling hook, tossing it with all his might. Mahmoud grabs hold of it, and the weight of his sudden stop almost pulls Autolycus off the horse's back. Gradually, the Pegasus lowers back toward the site of the earlier fight, Mahmoud dangling at the bottom of Autolycus's rope. Ali Baba and his forces are below, waving. They have won the second round of battle.  
  
Once the Pegasus lands, Mahmoud walks over to Autolycus and kneels before him. "You saved my life. By the laws of my people, my life is now yours."  
  
"Ah... swell..." Autolycus starts uncertainly.  
  
"Mahmoud!!" Bouh-L'ar bellows from the cage. "Kill him and let me out of here! You owed me your life first!"  
  
Mahmoud turns. "That life would have ended if this man had not saved me. My debt to you is ended. I will protect this man and this child from now on."  
  
Muran glances up at Autolycus and grins. "Can we keep him?"  
  
CUT TO:  
  
Autolycus and Muran stand beside the Pegasus. Mahmoud stands before them.  
  
"I appreciate the offer," Autolycus starts, "but I think you can do more good here than by serving as our bodyguard."  
  
"How so?" Mahmoud asks.  
  
"Travel the countryside. Help those in need. Defend the defenseless. Be a champion for good, that sort of stuff. Just be a..." Autolycus fumbles for a phrase... "wandering hero."  
  
Mahmoud nods. "As you wish."  
  
Autolycus then turns and shakes hands with Ali Baba. "It was a pleasure working with you," Baba says. "Perhaps we will meet again, and can exchange notes on thievery in more depth."  
  
Leila leans in and gently kisses Autolycus. "Wafiyyah will be sorry she didn't get to say goodbye to you. I'll tell her about our rescue of Muran and the horse..." Leila grins devilishly, "but I'll leave out a few details..." She kisses him again and steps back. "I'll never look at that one side tunnel in our caverns the same way again."  
  
"What details?" Muran asks. "What side tunnel?"  
  
Autolycus rolls his eyes. "I... uh... don't know."  
  
He helps her onto the back of the Pegasus.  
  
"You know," Muran says, as Autolycus climbs onto the horse's back. "You really need to work on your skills at lying..."  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Autolycus grumbles. "We have a side trip to make..."  
  
CUT TO  
  
The valley back in Greece. The Pegasus zooms overhead, lowering gradually. Autolycus looks up sleepily. "Ah, home sweet home." He nudges Muran, who has been sleeping against him, and she stirs. "We're back at the valley." He looks behind him, where Bellerophon is riding. The old man is not the least bit sleepy; if anything, he is more vibrant than ever before.  
  
The Pegasus neighs as it lowers, and a responsive neigh comes from a cluster of trees.  
  
The Pegasus lands, and lets Bellerophon, Muran and Autolycus climb off it. It then trots toward the trees, where a spotted brown and white mare emerges from the woods. They rub against one another's necks.  
  
"How about that?" Autolycus says. "A girlfriend, eh?"  
  
"More than that," Muran says.  
  
Two young colts, about four months old, trot out to join them. The colts have small wings folded at their sides. Bellerophon gasps in delight.  
  
"Pegasus has a family here," Muran says in a whisper. "That's why he was staying around this valley. He sensed I didn't want to hurt them, and I think that's why he tried to help me."  
  
"Touching," Autolycus says, a bit ironically, but he actually seems kind of charmed by the happy family scene in front of them. One of the colts lifts into the air a little as it fights to flap its wings, and the Pegasus neighs proudly. Bellerophon approaches carefully, and one of the colts trots up to him and lets him pet it. Then the Pegasus approaches and rubs its nose against his shoulder.  
  
"We're heading back to the village, Bellerophon," Autolycus calls. "You want to come along?"  
  
"No, thank you. I believe I'll stay here for awhile. Visit with my old friend."  
  
Muran smiles warmly. Autolycus turns to her. "You know what, kid? It's been about a month and a half since I've had any good food. The stuff I had on the boat ride to rescue you was nasty, and I never could get used to the food those people in the desert lands eat. You hungry?"  
  
"What do you think?" Muran asks with a grin, and they walk off toward the village nearby as we...  
  
FADE OUT.  
  
END CREDITS ROLL, THEN SHRINK TO TINY PROPORTIONS SO WE CAN SEE.....  
  
ONE FINAL SCENE.  
  
Bouh-L'ar and Batiq stand in the courtyard of King al-Din's castle. Both of them are sporting black eyes.  
  
Nearby, another lord, a pudgy man with greying, frazzled hair, presents a jeweled box to a six-year old girl and bows graciously. The girl opens it. Beside her, King al-Din and one of his wives, Yahsmin, watch with warm, parental smiles. The girl lifts up a golden comb with jewels lining the handle. "Oh, thank you, Lord Jahwar," she says with an almost unbearably- cute little lisp.  
  
"The least I could give for your majesty's birthday," the pudgy man says, bowing repeatedly as he backs away.  
  
"Next." the king says.  
  
Bouh-L'ar steps forward. "Princess Habibah, you remember how after your last birthday I promised you a very special horse?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" She says excitedly.  
  
"Well..." Bouh-L'ar tries to hide his almost pained expression as he turns and motions. Princess Habibah jumps up from her small throne as Batiq leads Bouh-L'ar's horse Sharif out into the center of the courtyard.  
  
"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!!!" the princess squeals in delight as she runs up to Sharif and starts rubbing it. "I've always loved Sharif! Thank you so much, Lord Bouh-L'ar!"  
  
"Anything to make the king's daughter happy," Bouh-L'ar mutters.  
  
FADE OUT 


End file.
